


These Roads Always Lead Me Back

by casey270



Category: Adam Lambert (Musician), Tommy Ratliff (Musician)
Genre: Gen, M/M, Minor Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-01
Updated: 2012-01-01
Packaged: 2017-10-28 12:24:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/307848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/casey270/pseuds/casey270
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The struggle to reclaim a friendship that time and circumstance have pushed aside. A temperamental car, a dark road and a lonely house all conspire with nature to help Adam and Tommy find their way back to being able to appreciate what is special about each other.</p><p>Fic master post is <a href="http://casey270.livejournal.com/13365.html">here</a><br/>Art master post is <a href="http://adobejunkie.livejournal.com/7868.html#cutid1">here</a></p><p>Thank you to my wonderful beta <a href="http://adamaddict-rh.livejournal.com/">Robin</a> for always knowing just what I need</p>
            </blockquote>





	These Roads Always Lead Me Back

  
[   
](http://s557.photobucket.com/albums/ss14/casey270/these%20roads/?action=view&current=151.png)   


 

The house sits on one of those country roads that sees little traffic in the daylight, and even less once darkness falls -- the kind of road that connects two highways and might save a few minutes traveling time if you know where to find it. Most people who do know of the road’s existence still don’t use it when they don’t have to; it seems as if the road itself would rather be forgotten, erased from memory.

But the house sits quietly waiting, hidden from the world by the thick brush that grows all around it. The few who’ve been close enough to notice remark about how the overgrowth stops before it reaches the house itself. It’s almost as if the house commands respect from nature.

[](http://s557.photobucket.com/albums/ss14/casey270/these%20roads/?action=view&current=22.png)

 

Adam’s late tonight. It seems as if he’s always late these days, and his new PA made it completely clear that if he missed call time again, there would be big trouble. The band left over an hour ago, but Tommy’s riding with Adam, if only to make sure there aren’t any distractions along the way. Tommy may not be the best copilot in the world, and when he points over his shoulder at the exit they should have taken, saying, “Shit, I think that one was the one we wanted, man,” Adam isn’t really surprised. Exasperated, maybe. Frustrated, most definitely. But he’s not the least bit surprised.

“Wonderful, just fucking wonderful,” Adam mutters under his breath, unconsciously slowing down, trying to pull up an image of the map in his mind so he can plan his next best option. The car’s navigation system quit working a week ago, and Adam hasn’t been able to find the time to have it checked.

This really hasn’t been one of his best days. Since parting with Lane, he’s been through four different personal assistants, each one harder to work with than the last. The latest incarnation was a guy named Guy, the height of insipidity as far as Adam’s concerned.

And this Guy seems to forget about the assistant part of a personal assistant’s job quite frequently. Adam’s spent today -- the day of a show, for god’s sake -- running around, making sure that his wardrobe is set and everything he needs is gathered and packed and stowed on the truck that’s taking the equipment to the venue. The only reason he’s running late is because Guy never thought it necessary to inform Adam, until the band was already boarding the bus, that the boots he wanted for tonight were nowhere to be found. The outfit he’d picked wouldn’t work without those particular boots, so the trip to his mom’s became necessary, but it's putting him so far behind schedule that he's going to be lucky if he has time to do his makeup before the show starts.

Nevertheless, they’d left him to fetch his own boots, with Tommy to keep him company and keep him calm. In all probability it was decided Tommy was the best candidate for the job because when he gets into one of these bitch-at-the-world-’cause-ain’t-nothing-going-right moods, Tommy’s the least likely to argue back, or maybe Tommy’s best at ignoring Adam’s moods. Tommy has enough moods of his own not to be overly influenced by Adam’s. Now that Adam has his coveted boots, and they’re on their way to the venue, Tommy just sits back and plugs his headphones in and lets the world and Adam’s bitching pass him by. He unfortunately lets the exit he's supposed to be looking for pass him by, too.

“Sorry to interrupt whatever it is you’re doing, Tommy, but do you know how the hell we get back to where we should be, since you couldn’t be bothered to do your job right the first fucking time?”

“Woulda both been on the bus if someone remembered to put his shoes where they belong” Tommy answers. “Fucking Christ, Adam, who else would think it’s normal to need an assistant to keep track of their boots?”

And, yeah, things have been a little strained between them lately. They’re both busy with their own lives and their own problems, and it’s not like they’ve been spending a lot of time together these days. Somehow they seem to have drifted apart, friendship and whatever else they may have had once upon a tour, now buried under the day to day trivialities they each collect.

“Well, we’re not on the damn bus, now are we?” Adam asks, his scowl daring Tommy to answer. “We’re on the wrong fucking highway, getting further and further from where we should be, just because you have the attention span of a gnat in heat.”

“That’s rich, Lambert, coming from you. How many have there been this year? Do you even bother to keep a running count anymore?” Tommy actually winces when he sees how his words affect Adam. It hasn’t been easy for either of them these last few years, neither finding that one special person. The older they get, the more they feel the push to find someone, but it wasn’t always that way.

 

*

 

 _The first tour was magical, everything new and exciting, just as they were still relatively new and exciting to each other. The blush of enchantment seemed to touch everything they did._

 _They had fun playing with the crowds, and the fans seemed to enjoy it, too. But sometimes, things carried over after the shows. Not everything had clear boundaries and edges. They were living in the moment. They were the boys of summer. They were magic men._

 _They never questioned the dressing room kisses, never thought to wonder if getting each other off after a show -- just to calm things down, help settle the excitement of performing -- was a smart idea. It was what it was, and neither thought it was anything more. They both enjoyed the thrill of it all, and neither wanted to take the time to examine it._

 _They moved through cities, then the world, taking in whatever they could, seeing places they'd never been before. They were family; they were friends-to-the-end. Neither one ever considered that part of the illusion._

 

*

 

The tension triggered by Tommy’s last statement carries them in silence for the next few minutes. When he can’t stand it any longer, Tommy mumbles a quick, “Sorry, man. Too far,” into his lap, because he’s not up to meeting Adam’s eyes right now. When he does look over at Adam, Tommy’s not surprised to see white knuckles holding the steering wheel and those not so tiny lines around Adam’s mouth that let him know just how upset Adam is. Talking about each other’s relationships has always been off limits between them. It’s the one boundary they’ve always respected.

“Ya think?” Adam answers with a quick glance at Tommy. “Might be better if you used your energy finding out where the hell we are instead of being a dick.”

The second the words leave his mouth, Adam wishes he can pull them back, because even when Tommy says, “Whatever, man. I said I was sorry. Can’t fucking do more than that,” Adam can see Tommy stiffen. They used to be able to tease without it hurting like this. Of course, back then they hadn’t meant to be hurtful.

 

*

 

 _“God, Tommy, you can be such a dick sometimes,” Adam giggled into Tommy’s mouth. “Sutan’s gonna be so mad when he has to do my makeup again.”_

 _“I’m not worried. Sutan loves me. Anyway, he expects you to kiss all the pretty boys. Besides, he loves getting to make you look all gorgeous, lucky fucker. He’d play with your face all day if you let him.” Tommy couldn’t keep his hands away from Adam’s hair. He loved to break up the product, feel the strands give up the chemical hold and bend to his will. He pushed back in for another kiss, harder and dirtier this time, because as much as he loved Adam looking all pretty and perfect, Tommy loved to be the one messing him up._

 

*

 

“Hey, diva,” Tommy says, trying unsuccessfully to open the right app on his phone, “I got no reception here. Try yours and see if you can GPS us outta here.”

Finally pulling over and stopping, Adam pulls out his phone, only to get the same result as Tommy. “Shit. Nothing on mine, either. I didn’t think there was anywhere in the world with absolutely no reception.”

“Fucking dead zone, dude,” Tommy says with a sinful grin. “Better not stay still for too long, or something wicked will come outta the dark and grab ya.”

“You and your fucking horror-trash-stuck-in-the-storm-drain mind should be working on a way to get us out of here, not making the situation worse,” Adam shoots back, trying to remember when Tommy’s obsession with horror started to bother him so much.

 

*

 

 _Sitting together long after everyone else had gone to sleep was just something they did. They were both light sleepers until the early morning hours hit. Then they could sleep through anything, and Monte never got tired of reminding them of how often he had to come wake them up because neither of them had heard the alarm or the ringing of their phones._

 _Tonight the TV was on, but the sound was low. Their voices were hushed as they talked, so as not to disturb the others on the bus. It was natural to sit side by side, Tommy warm and comfortable, pushed in tight against Adam, Adam’s arm across Tommy’s shoulder, holding him close._

 _“Why so much horror, Tommy?” Adam asked, his fingers tracing the lines of Freddy’s face, making Tommy shiver. “It’s not like I don’t like it. I just don’t understand it. All this dark ink against your skin, I mean.”_

 _“Maybe I just need to keep the bad things where I can see them,” Tommy answered, moving in even closer against Adam’s side. “Don’t want them sneaking up on me some dark night, ya know?”_

 _“I’d protect you, though,” Adam said, pulling Tommy closer and kissing the top of his head. “I’d protect you from the bad things that come out of the dark.”_

 _“Yeah, but what about when the bad things come from me? How you gonna protect me then?” As much as Adam wanted to answer, as much as he wanted to reassure Tommy, the right words wouldn’t come together in his head, so he did the only thing he could. He sat there with Tommy until the dark thoughts were pushed aside by the brightening of the dawn sky._

 

*

 

“Take it easy, rock star,” Tommy says, using that special sarcasm on the euphemism that he knows sets off Adam’s instant anger level. “The show can’t start until your get your ass there. Everyone thinks you’re a fucking diva anyway. Might as well take advantage of it.” He doesn’t look at Adam when he says it. He can’t look at Adam, because he only says it to be hurtful, but he really doesn’t want to see the pain it causes.

“Besides,” Tommy says, “we’re heading north. The road we need to be on runs parallel to this one ten miles east of here. Take the next right, and you should be able to find it. It’s not even really math, dude. I’m sure you can figure it out.” He really can’t remember when he quit believing Adam could find the answer to any problem on his own.

 

*

 

 _Something stopped Tommy just before he knocked on the dressing room door. He heard voices coming from the other side, and even if he didn’t want to eavesdrop, hearing the tension in Adam’s voice kept him from either knocking or moving away._

 _Tommy knew Adam must be taking some heat for what happened. It wasn’t exactly what they’d done in rehearsals, but this was fucking rock and roll. They’d hired Adam for this because he was edgy and over the top, after all._

 _Tommy heard the voices getting louder and louder before he heard Adam cut them off. When Adam wanted to be heard, he made sure every damn person around listened and understood him. There was no arguing with Adam when he used that tone. Adam made it very clear, saying, “I’m not gonna fucking apologize for it, okay? I kiss boys. That’s who I am. That’s who they hired. End of discussion.”_

 _Tommy could hear a few token protests as footsteps started coming closer to the door. He backed away just as it flew open, and a few executive types -- the type of types Tommy really couldn’t stand -- came storming out. When the way was clear, he looked in the room, seeing Adam packing up the last of his things._

 _“You about ready, boss?” he asked. “The car’s here, waiting to take us to the airport.”_

 _Adam picked up his bag before he answered. “Yeah, I’m more than ready to get out of this fucking place.”_

 _When Adam made his way out into the hallway, Tommy asked, “Everything all right? It sounded kinda intense in there.”_

 _“Nothing I can’t handle, Tommy Joe,” Adam said, and Tommy slid right in under the arm Adam offered, feeling the security in it._

 _Standing there so close, with Adam so big and powerful, Tommy believed that there wasn’t anything that Adam couldn’t handle._

 

*

 

“Glad you have so fucking much confidence in me,” Adam answers as he pulls back onto the road and drives as slowly as traffic will allow, looking for a turn off. “Is that a road up there?” he asks, pointing to a thinning spot in the trees that grow along the side of the road.

“Not one that I remember being there,” Tommy tells him, his attention focused on finding the spot Adam was talking about.

“Yeah, we all know how legendary your memory is, now don’t we?”

 

*

 

 _Adam couldn’t believe how everyone was acting. Tommy wasn’t a fucking two-year-old, after all. When he heard the third person say, “Think hard, Tommy. Where was the last place you remember having it?” he couldn’t take it anymore._

 _Adam took hold of Tommy’s arm, ready to pull him away from the circle of people around them, but Tommy stopped him from going too far when he said, “It’s all right, man. I’m always fucking losing things. My mom used to tell me if I would just put everything in the right place to begin with, I wouldn’t lose them. If I can’t keep my shit organized, I deserve to be treated like a kid.”_

 _“Listen to me, Tommy,” Adam said, tipping Tommy’s chin up so they were looking directly into each other’s eyes. “I don’t know why you want to beat yourself up over this, but you aren’t any worse than anyone else here. You know we went through all your stuff, and everyone else’s stuff. Your passport isn’t here. It didn’t vanish on its own. It was lifted. This is not your fault.” Adam pulled Tommy closer and kissed his forehead. “It’s not your fault, just because someone says it is. Now let’s make Lane earn her salary. She can sort this out.”_

 _Walking back to the others with Adam’s arm over his shoulder made Tommy feel better: warm and somehow stronger. He couldn’t help smiling when Adam whispered just out of hearing range of the others, “Besides, I think it’s adorable when you can’t find your socks in the morning.”_

 

*

 

Tommy looks at Adam, looks with so much intensity that Adam has to glance over at Tommy even while he’s making the turn onto the side road. He’s pretty sure he knows what Tommy’s thinking, but it’s not something he wants to get into right now. He’s still fuzzy about that night.

Tommy turns to look out the window, telling the passing trees, “At least I remember the important shit.”

 

*

 

 _They were drunk as fuck, but no one cared. They had the next few days off. There was a break in the schedule, almost a mini vacation, and they were all together. Some of them were from the first tour: the core group, the old timers. Others were new, but when you were with Adam, you were family._

 _This was a first for all of them, though; the first show in Mexico, and it was a fucking success. A rooftop show at Cabo Wabo, televised on MTV, for fuck sake. Then partying after the show with Sammy fucking Hagar? How life could be any better, Tommy didn’t know._

 _When they finally stumbled back to the hotel, the others split off to go to their own rooms and get some sleep. Adam still had a bottle of the good tequila, though. He held it up and raised his eyebrows in Tommy’s direction, asking, “You up for helping me finish this off?”_

 _“I’m always up for it, Adam.” Tommy threw in a wink, because that’s who they were. It’s how they played._

 _When they got to Adam’s room, Adam picked up the remote and flopped down on the bed while Tommy opened the bottle and kicked his boots off. “Damn, even your bed’s better than mine,” Tommy said as he stretched out next to Adam, leaning back against the mound of pillows that almost hid the headboard._

 _“Perks of being the star, Tommy.” Adam took a long drink from the bottle that Tommy had passed to him._

 _“Okay, star,” Tommy joked, pulling the bottle back and taking a drink, “the bed’s one thing, but you’re not gonna drink all the tequila. I got a rider in my contract, or some shit like that, that says I get my fair share of all the booze.” Tommy moves in closer to Adam before he continues. “Besides, I’m sleeping right here tonight. Gonna get shitfaced and take up the whole bed and all the covers. Then you’ll be the one out in the cold.”_

 _Adam ruffled Tommy’s hair and said, “You’re already drunk, Tommy, but I’ll share my questionably obtained liquor with you anyway, and you know you’re welcome to stay here.”_

 _“That’s what makes you the best boss in the world, dude. Always willing to share. Makes you a fucking good friend, too.” Adam was right. He was more than a little drunk, but how often would he get a chance to do something like this? Thinking about all the amazing, crazy things he’d been able to do since he met Adam, led his mind to a round of remember-when._

 _He was settled in visions of TV gigs, packed shows and crowds gone wild when Adam said, “Tonight was a good night, yeah? One of those nights you remember for the rest of your life and wonder ‘did that really happen?’ ”_

 _Tommy looked up at Adam and the look of absolute amazement and awe on his face was breathtaking. He knew Adam was a grown-ass man, same as him, but at times like this Adam looked like a kid who got everything he wanted for Christmas...or Hanukkah, or whatever the fuck Adam and his family had celebrated. Tommy couldn’t resist kissing Adam then, because that’s who they were, too._

 _After the tequila was gone, and they’d talked for hours, hovering between being awake and asleep, Tommy said, “I love you, man. Like I seriously, truthfully... fuck, I literally love you, and it scares the shit outta me,” because he couldn’t hold it in any longer. “I don’t even know what I’m trying to say here, but it’s not the booze talking.” He felt so exposed, so naked and bare in a way he’d never felt before that he buried his face against Adam’s throat so his emotions weren’t on display._

 _Maybe Adam was feeling more than he wanted to feel, too, because when he said, “Sounds like we gotta talk about things, Tommy," his voice was choked with emotion. "But not when we’re drunk, okay? We can talk in the morning, when we both have clear heads. I want to make sure we both know what we’re saying and doing if we do this.”_

 _Tommy drifted off wondering if he’d made a mistake, if this was gonna make things weird, and hoping that he’d be able to find the right words to let Adam know how he felt when the time came._

 _The next morning didn’t happen, though. By the time they woke up most of the day had gone by, and there was a club that Adam was supposed to make an appearance at as soon as he was satisfied that his makeup sufficiently covered the effects of the night before._

 _Tommy kept waiting for Adam to bring it up, he never did. Instead, when they were boarding the plane to go home Adam turned to Neil and said, “Never drink tequila with Tommy. I don’t know how he does it, but he can drink anyone under the table. I don’t remember anything after the performance the other night.” Turning to look at Tommy, Adam asked, “Do you?”_

 _Tommy’s smile didn’t quite reach his eyes when he answered. “We partied with Sammy fucking Hagar, went back to your room, polished off the bottle, and fell asleep watching old sit-coms on cable.” Maybe it was some kind of fucked up fate thing that kept Adam from remembering, but Tommy was almost relieved that things wouldn’t be changing between them._

 

*

 

They drive in silence for a while, Adam watching the road and Tommy watching the scenery. There are no street lights on this road. It’s not a highway, not even a county road. It’s dark and lonely and not somewhere either of them would ever willingly return to, but neither of them doubts that it’ll get them where they want to go.

Tommy’s not really paying attention to anything outside of his own head when Adam starts slowing down. “Thought you were in a hurry to get there,” Tommy says, turning his attention back to Adam and the car.

“I can’t go too fast,” Adam answers. “The trees are so damn close to the road that the headlights are throwing shadows all over.”

“So maybe you should try the brights then,” Tommy throws back, because he’s tired of the close quarters already, and his nerves are on edge.

“That genius, Tommy. Why didn’t I think of that? Oh, yeah, maybe it’s because I tried that already, and it only made things worse.”

Tommy thinks he probably deserves that. He didn’t mean to be a asshole, but lately that’s what they seemed to bring out in each other. When he looks over at Adam, he sees the strain of concentration on his face and asks, “Is it really that bad?”

“Every time I think I can relax, it’s like something jumps out in front of us. The trees are just too damn close. The shadows are fucking up my perception, I think. Now my head feels like it’s going to implode. I’m pretty sure I have a migraine coming on.” Tommy thinks Adam looks too pale, and the little lines around his eyes are deeper than he can remember them being before. “I just wish I could make everything come clear.”

 

*

 

 _He always liked the international shows, but Amsterdam had always been his favorite. The first tour there was magical. Everyone appreciated the openness of the city and felt at home and welcomed. Adam insisted that it be included on the next tour, and not only had he gotten his way, but his team had scheduled multiple shows over the course of a week._

 _They had a fucking week in Amsterdam, and everyone was taking advantage of the atmosphere. Tommy took over showing the newbies of their group what Amsterdam had to offer while Adam found some quiet time for himself. He was grateful to Tommy for volunteering. He didn't feel up to the pressure of always having to party to the extreme. Rock and roll could be damn tiring._

 _After the first night, Tommy told his group to go out and play nice by themselves, that he needed some quiet time. Adam had to admit when they were sitting on the balcony of his room, that maybe age was creeping up on both of them. They weren't in their twenties anymore. Tommy had a beer, Adam had his vodka, and they were sharing a joint, passing it back and forth in comfortable silence._

 _These were the times Adam looked forward to. The easy times with someone he felt completely comfortable with. With the relaxed feeling of the night and the time to think, Adam came to a realization that he felt compelled to share with Tommy. Taking a hit and holding it in as long as he could, Adam contemplated his words. "I love the way everything feels so clear and natural tonight. There's nothing better than getting to spend time with people you care about. We're good for each other, aren't we Tommy?"_

 _Tommy looked at Adam and smiled slow and effortlessly, maybe the most genuine smile he'd ever smiled. "Fucking right we're good for each other. Who else would be staying in, sitting next to your sorry ass in the most amazing city on Earth?" He reaches over and pushes Adam's shoulder playfully before he takes the joint back. "Sometimes all it takes is a good friend to make things come clear."_

 

*

 

"Maybe you should pull over and let me drive, man," Tommy says, not liking all the stress he sees on Adam's face. No matter what's happened between them, no matter how strained things are now, he can't stand to see Adam hurting.

"I don't know, Tommy. I noticed the car not running the way it usually does, and I'm afraid if I take my foot off the gas, it’ll die, and it won't start again. Besides, we should have hit the highway by now."

Thinking back to how long ago it was that they'd turned onto this road, Tommy thinks they should have gone far enough to make it to the highway, too. "How many miles have we been driving since you turned?" he asks.

"I'm not sure. I don't think the odometer's working. It keeps flashing different numbers," Adam answers, looking even more worried than before. "The whole car's fucked up all of a sudden."

"And you didn't think it was important enough to let me know that when you first noticed?" Tommy asks. It bugs the shit out of him when Adam thinks he has to protect him from things by keeping him in the dark.

 

*

 

 _"Why didn't you tell me?" Tommy asked as he pushed the door open and stormed into Adam's room without waiting for his knock to be answered._

 _"Because I wanted a chance to work it out first," Adam answered, getting up from his chair in spite of Sutan's protests. After asking for a few minutes alone with Tommy, Adam continues, "Management told me two months ago that they wanted a clean slate for the second tour. They wanted it for the promo, too, but there wasn't enough time for them to get it together. I've been fighting them over it since the idea first came up, and I'm not gonna give in on this."_

 _Walking over to Tommy, Adam took hold of his hands and looked at Tommy without flinching or wavering. "I didn't want you to worry when I wasn't sure there was anything to worry about."_

 _"But it's my life, Adam. My future, my employment is on the line here. It would have been nice to have something lined up, just in case." Tommy didn't like the whiny sound his words had, but, damn it, he was pissed._

 _"That's exactly why I didn't want to tell you, Tommy. I don't want you looking for something else. I want you with me on this tour. I need you there. You keep me grounded, help me stay focused. I won't let them replace you, because they couldn't replace you. Trust me on this, okay?" And when Adam pulled him close and held him there, Tommy did trust him completely._

 

*

 

"There wasn't anything you could do about it," Adam tells him, and Tommy sees the old protective side of Adam coming out.

"I know shit about cars, but I still know more than you do, Lambert," Tommy says. "If you’d told me sooner I might've been able to figure something out before we got so far down this fucking road." Tommy winces as the car starts misfiring. Looking out the passenger window again, he says, "It would be nice if you trusted me sometimes."

 

*

 

 _Tommy wouldn’t be doing this for anyone but Adam. “Just hold my belt,” Adam said, “and don’t let go.”_

 _“I’m not gonna fucking let go, man, but why the hell is it so important? Can’t you just get another one?” Tommy made the mistake of looking over the edge, and he almost did let go. Shit, he almost went over the edge himself._

 _“Just a little bit more, Tommy,” Adam said as he reached out further, trusting Tommy to keep him safe. “I’m almost there. Just gimme a little bit more.”_

 _Tommy laughed as he let Adam lean out as far as he could while still holding on tightly. “You know how that would sound to anyone who couldn’t see your ass hanging over this railing, don’t you? Just how the hell did it end up out there, anyway?”_

 _“Long story, and it’s not something I wanna try and explain right now.” Adam’s fingers wiggled, trying to reach another millimeter. “Come on, Tommy. I just need another inch or two.”_

 _Tommy tried bracing his feet against the bottom of the balcony wall, but there was nothing there to anchor him. If he could hold Adam’s weight with one arm and the railing with the other Adam might be able to reach, but there was no way he was going to chance that. If one of his hands slipped, it would be a five-story drop for Adam._

 _“Adam, if you come back up here, you can hold me out there. I’m not as heavy. Maybe I can reach it.”_

 _Looking back over his shoulder, Adam gave Tommy an incredulous look. “You’d never make it out here. You don’t like heights, remember?”_

 _“I fucking hate heights. My heart’s trying to jump right outta my skin as it is, but if you insist that the damn phone’s worth it, I’ll do it.”_

 _Tommy felt Adam strain one last time, but he felt the world tip at the same time. He’d been balanced on the balls of his feet and suddenly there wasn’t as much contact with the balcony floor as there had been._

 _Tommy’s 'Fuck, Adam!' was covered by Adam’s 'Got it, Tommy!', and Tommy threw all his weight backwards. He didn’t know if he’d been successful in keeping them from going over the edge because he couldn’t feel anything solid except for Adam’s belt, which he was damn sure not going to ever let go of._

 _When he crashed back into the hotel room, narrowly missing the glass slider, he breathed a sigh of relief, but then Adam landed right on top of him and knocked the wind out of him._

 _While Tommy tried to get his breath back, Adam’s words flew out of his mouth. “Oh, god, Tommy! I’m so sorry! Are you okay? Did I hurt you?”_

 _When Tommy could finally pull in enough breath, he started laughing. It wasn’t a quiet giggle or a gentle laugh. It balanced right on the edge of hysteria. Tommy couldn’t stop. Reaching out, he punched Adam in the shoulder as hard as he could._

 _“Oww! What the fuck, Tommy?” Adam asked, rubbing the sore spot._

 _“Yeah, Lambert, what the actual fuck do you think you were doing out there? If my hand had slipped, you woulda gone down. How the hell was that alright?” Tommy wasn’t laughing anymore. Thinking about how close it had been, made Tommy break out in a cold sweat. He wanted to hit Adam and hug him at the same time, but decided to kiss him instead, right on the mouth before he said, “You ever do something like that again, I’m not gonna be the one holding on to you.”_

 _“If you hadn’t been holding on to me, Tommy, I never would have done it. I knew you wouldn’t let go. You’re the only one I’d trust.”_

 

  
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Adam holds the steering wheel with one hand and pounds the dash with the other as the car’s cylinders continue to misfire. “This day just keeps getting better and better,” he says, trying to coax a little cooperation out of the car. “No signal for the phone. No traffic on the road. Hell, I can’t even remember passing any houses since we turned. If the car breaks down out here, we could be stranded for days.”

Tommy looks at Adam and raises one eyebrow in incredulity. “Days? Seriously, days, Adam? That’s kinda dramatic, even for you, don’t ya think?.”

Adam’s first instinct is to come right back with some sarcastic remark, but something about the way Tommy’s looking at him reminds him of when they could tease each other and not automatically think it was meant to be spiteful, and right then Adam misses the feeling of comfort they used to have with each other.

“Fuck if I’m gonna willingly go for a ten mile hike in these boots,” Adam says, smiling just a little. He’s made his decision about the direction he wants this night to take, but he's not exactly smiling in Tommy’s direction because, yeah, he’s not quite ready to go all the way on his own.

Tommy seems to feel the change in the energy too, because when he says, “I’m damn sure not looking forward to walking in creepers, but it doesn’t sound like we’re gonna have much of a choice,” there’s a note of sincerity in his voice that wasn’t there before. “Maybe you should look for a place to pull over.”

“I don’t think I’ll have to worry about anybody being inconvenienced if I left the damn car in the middle of the road,” Adam says as he fights for control of the car’s dying systems. “There’s not many cars out here tonight.”

“Looks like you won’t have to find out. There’s a place you can pull off the road up there.” As Tommy points to a spot where he can see a break in the trees, and the shoulder of the road seems level and wide enough to safely leave the car, fate sees fit to make it quit running completely. With one last chug and a puff of white exhaust, the car dies, and the music that’s been playing cuts off at the same time the headlights go out.

“Great, just fucking great,” Adam practically shouts, banging his fists against the steering wheel.

“ ‘m pretty sure beating up the car isn’t gonna help anything,” Tommy says, and Adam thinks it’s one of those times when the balance and the energy could go either way again. Some part of him thinks Tommy’s testing him, while another thinks this is just Tommy’s way of trying to calm him down. “That spot isn’t that far ahead. I’ll get out and push; you steer.”

“I’m bigger, Tommy. It would make more sense for me to push and you to steer.”

“You might be bigger, but there’s no fucking way I’m pulling this car over into those branches. No matter what, this car’s gonna get scratched, and I’m not gonna be the one responsible for it.” Adam can tell there’s more to it than Tommy’s words give away because there’s a look of challenge in Tommy’s eyes, an almost I-dare-you look, and Adam thinks it’s another cosmic test. “Besides, I’m stronger than I look. People forget that sometimes.”

 

*

 

 _Adam watched from the bus window as Tommy lugged his carry-on, two guitars and laptop case, while he pulled his luggage behind, his shoulders bent with the weight. He chuckled to himself when he saw one of the new crew members approach Tommy, knowing what was going to happen. Adam couldn’t hear the words, but he’d heard them many times before. He knew from the wild way Tommy was gesturing, he was schooling the new roadie._

 _After Tommy stowed his equipment in the luggage compartment, He made his way onto the bus and practically fell down on the couch next to Adam. “Saw ya out there, Tommy,” Adam said with a wry smile, throwing in a wink just to keep it light. “Saw you lecturing the new guy. Don’t scare him off before we leave the parking lot, okay?”_

 _Tommy didn’t bother answering, just flipped Adam off as he settled in, trying to decided if this end of the couch was going to be his spot on the bus._

 _Adam knew Tommy was pointedly trying to ignore him, but he could see how upset Tommy still was. This was one of those times that Tommy needed to be pushed into admitting what was bothering him. “You know,” Adam started cautiously, “sometimes people offer to help just because they want to help.”_

 _“And sometimes,” Tommy added, “they people need to be reminded that I’m a grown ass man and can carry my own fucking shit. Just because I’m not big, doesn’t mean I can’t handle my own stuff, ya know?”_

 _“Okay, I think we both know this isn’t about some new roadie who happened to offer to help you, don’t we?” Adam asked, because this was too big to let go. “Or not only about him. Wanna talk about it, Tommy?”_

 _“No...Maybe...Fuck, Adam, I don’t know. There’s nothing to talk about. It just hit me wrong today. I’ll apologize next time I see him, okay? Can we drop it now?” Tommy found music that fit his mood and put his earphones in, effectively shutting Adam out._

 _“No, I don’t think we can,” Adam told him, pulling out one of Tommy’s earbuds. Adam had learned to judge Tommy’s mood by the type of music he chose to listen to, and the sound he heard was dark and jarring. “I don’t think apologizing is gonna make you feel any better; it might help Sam’s feeling, though. That’s his name, by the way. I just thought it might be a good idea for you to know that. Make it more personal, you know? He’s new and nervous as hell. He just started a new job and wants to make a good impression. He probably thinks he fucked up and is gonna get fired for pissing you off.”_

 _Adam saw anger and defiance in Tommy’s eyes, and it worried him more than just a little. Tommy used to be the one to soothe any frictions that came up. Tommy was the peacemaker, the easygoing one, or he was when they first met. Adam couldn’t pinpoint when Tommy changed. It seemed to come on gradually._

 _Tommy stared at Adam, not willing to back down. Adam could see the tension in the way Tommy’s hands were clenched into fists and the cords standing out in his neck. He could see the anger flashing in Tommy’s eyes. “I said I would fucking apologize. I lost it, okay? Haven’t you ever gone off on someone?”_

 _“Course I have, but I count on my friends to let me know if I’m out of line. A friend isn’t someone who always tells you what you want to hear. A friend, a real friend, is someone who calls you on your shit when they need to. A friend is someone who keeps you grounded.”_

 _Adam didn’t know if he could see the tiniest bit of loosening in Tommy’s muscles, or if it was just wishful thinking, but he had to keep going. “So consider yourself called out, Tommy. You’re my friend. I can see something’s bothering you, and it didn’t start with Sam offering to help you today.” Adam smiled at Tommy as he took his fisted hand and held it until Tommy relaxed._

 _“It’s not a big deal, Adam. It’s something I should be used to by now. I’ve never been a big guy, ya know?” Tommy was looking down at his lap, and Adam thought it might be better to make eye contact. That way Tommy would know that he wasn’t alone; that someone was listening to what he was saying, so Adam put two fingers under Tommy’s chin and pulled his head up until he could see brown eyes looking back at him._

 _Adam brushed the hair away from Tommy’s face and let his hand linger on his cheek. “I never knew it bothered you. You always seemed to be okay with how tall you are.”_

 _“Shit, it’s not how tall or how short I am that’s the problem. It’s about people thinking I’m not capable of taking care of myself. Everybody’s always trying to help me because I’m on the small side, and if I let them, it moves on to thinking they have to do things for me all the time. Then they think they have to make decisions for me, and it keeps going, and going, and going, until everybody starts treating me like a little kid. I’m thirty fucking years old, for Christ's sake. It’s about time people trusted me to live my own life. It’s time people respected me.”_

 _Adam put his arm around Tommy’s shoulder, but let Tommy decide how close they would get. It was a small gesture after what Tommy had just told him. He was glad when Tommy leaned in closer. “I can’t say I know what it’s like,” he told Tommy. “I was always the one they called a big guy. Even when I was a kid, I was big.” Adam sat for a few minutes, remembering all the times he’d wished no one expected him to act older than he was because they saw the size and not the age. A completely different set of problems went along with that, but this was Tommy’s time to vent, and Adam didn’t want to make it about himself. “I’m glad you told me, though. It’s not good to hold these things in. Anytime you need to vent, come see me, okay? That’s what friends are for.”_

 

*

 

“Okay, you get out and push, and I’ll put the scratches on my car,” Adam says with a wink, appreciating the smile that’s so warm and genuine he gets in return. It’s been too long since he’s seen Tommy smile at him that way.

Tommy opens his car door, flooding the interior with light. Looking back over his shoulder as he climbs out, he tells Adam, “Just don’t put the brakes on, okay?” and Adam can see the challenge in Tommy’s eyes, as he bites back the sarcastic retort that almost came out.

“I’ll do my best, Tommy,” Adam replies, taking note of the slight look of confusion on Tommy’s face. It really hurts to think that being nice to each other has come to be the unexpected. Realizing how much effort they’ve been putting into baiting each other lately hits him hard. He can’t remember how or when their friendship changed, but he misses the way it used to be.

Adam turns the key to the accessory position, hoping to roll down the window so he could hear if Tommy needs to communicate with him. When he pushes the button, nothing happens, but when he opens the door to let Tommy know, the dome light turns on. Adam doesn’t know fuck-all about electrical systems, but something seems off in the car’s behavior.

Looking back at Tommy, Adam says, “Car’s in neutral. Foot’s off the brake. Anytime you want to start’s good for me.”

Adam watches Tommy take his position, framed by the dark branches, pale skin and blond hair standing out in the night like a beacon. Watching Tommy bend to start pushing, Adam hears, “Hold on, Lambert. I’m about to rock your world,” and he can’t help but smile because that’s the way they used to play.

It takes Tommy two or three times of rocking the car before it starts to slowly roll forward. Adam alternates between looking at the road and glancing back at Tommy. He can hear Tommy back there, talking to the car or himself - Adam’s not sure which, but he has to laugh when he hears _Come on, you sexy little bitch. Get your ass moving_. He’s angling over to the side of the road, and he yells back to Tommy that he’ll be glad to give him some time alone with the car, when he notices that the break in the trees isn’t just a clearing at the edge of the road. It’s some sort of driveway, and Adam’s hoping that maybe it leads to something that can help them get out of here: a house maybe, with people or a phone, or a secluded factory that has an alarm system they can trip. Turning the wheel as sharply as he can, Adam thinks he can still make the turn even if the angle is wrong. It's not easy judging in the dark, and he hopes the change in plans doesn't throw Tommy off too much.

 

He hears Tommy swear from the back of the car, and glances back to make sure everything's okay. When he can’t see anything wrong, he turns his attention back to what's ahead of him, only to discover that the drive heads downhill in a steep decline. A low hanging pine branch seems to jump out right in front of him, and before he can stop himself, Adam's foot hits the brake pedal.

Tommy's _Oh, Fuck!_ makes its way to his ears just as he feels a thump against the back of the car, and Adam’s heart speeds up. One thing to remember; one fucking simple thing that he’s known for longer than he’s known how to drive, and he screwed it up. He’s mad as hell at himself but more worried about what might have happened to Tommy. Putting the car in park, Adam jumps out and runs towards the rear of the car, calling, "Tommy? Oh, shit, I'm sorry! Are you okay?"

When he rounds the back of the car, all he sees is Tommy’s blond hair peeking out from under the car, and he stops short. There’s just enough light from the car’s dome light to see the outline of Tommy’s head, but Adam can’t see Tommy moving at all. He’s lying on his stomach, under the car, and Adam can’t seem to catch his breath. His thoughts spin in circles, wondering just how the hell he could have run Tommy over. It’s not until he hears Tommy saying, “Little help here, please,” while reaching a hand out to him, that the stasis breaks and he can move again.

Bending close to Tommy, Adam reaches out his own hand before quickly pulling it back. “Are you hurt? Should you be moving?”

The concern in Adam’s voice is absolutely genuine, more genuine than anything they’ve said to each other in a long time, and Tommy answers with equal honesty. “My pride’s hurt. Don’t think it’ll hurt anything by moving it, though. Gimme a hand getting up, ‘kay?”

“Sure,” Adam answers, grabbing Tommy’s wrist to pull him up, “but how did you end up face down under the car?”

“Because I couldn’t get enough traction facing the damn car and pushing. I had my back against it so I could use my legs more, but then my foot twisted when you turned. I leaned back against the car, but it was still moving, and I fell. I guess I twisted when I fell, and I kinda slid downhill. If you hadn’t stopped when you did, the whole fucking car would have probably run over my foot.”

Thanks to Adam’s help, Tommy’s out from under the car, but not standing yet. He’s sitting there, rubbing his ankle. “So it was a good thing that I stopped, right?” Adam asks, just to make sure.

“It was a damn good thing, Adam. I was fucking panicked, watching the tire move closer to my foot. I didn’t know if you heard me yelling, or if you saw me go down. Shit, you’ve got good reflexes, dude. How’d you stop that fast?”

Not wanting to admit that it wasn’t Tommy’s yells that caused him to stop, Adam deflects the conversation to something safer. “How’s your ankle? Is it bad?” Adam reaches towards it tentatively, but pulls back when Tommy winces.

“Hurts like a bitch, but I don’t think anything’s broken. I heard it pop when it twisted, though. I don’t think I’ll be walking anywhere tonight.”

Adam can tell from the way Tommy’s not really touching it when he rubs it that his ankle must really be hurting. “We can’t stay out here all night,” He says, looking at how closely the trees and brush are crowding them. “Who the hell knows what’s out there.”

“Yeah,” Tommy tells him, voice as serious as he can make it, “I think I saw a squirrel looking at me funny when I was on the ground. If you hadn’t shown up, he probably woulda made his move. Sketchiest little fucker I’ve ever seen.”

Adam pushes Tommy’s shoulder playfully and is rewarded with Tommy saying, “Ow! Careful, dude. Wounded man here,” as he turns big, brown eyes Adam’s way, and it’s almost like old times.

Adam lets his hand stay on Tommy’s shoulder because this feels good; it feels right. “You forget, Glitterbaby,” Adam says, emphasizing the name that started as a joke and ended up causing them both so many headaches. “I haven’t fallen for your emo-boy, sad-eyed look since your audition. And even then I appreciated your mastery of it more than I fell for it.”

“Yeah, well, it can’t work on everyone, right?” Tommy tries to push his shoulder against Adam’s side, but the sudden twinge he feels in his back causes him to draw in a sharp breath. “Damn, when the hell did we get so old? I think I pulled something in my back.” Tommy tries twisting different ways, looking for the point that makes the pain flare.

“Shit, Tommy, just sit still. You’re only gonna make it worse if you keep squirming like that. I can check the car and see if I have any aspirin or something.”

“Don’t think aspirin’s gonna do much good, but if you have any Jack, that might help.”

“Yeah, right. I always keep a spare bottle in my car, ‘cuz I like seeing my mug shot on TMZ.”

“That only happened to me once, Lambert, and it wouldn’t have made it to TMZ if your brother hadn’t been right there with me.”

“You always loved corrupting Neil,” Adam says, a faraway smile on his face.

“Yeah, well, he was such an easy mark. Always thought he knew so much, and wanting to be so serious all the time. Couldn’t do it to him after he got married and had a kid, though. Just didn’t seem right anymore.”

“Did you ever regret it Tommy?” Adam asks, because he’s always wondered. “Not having kids, I mean. You always seemed so good with them.”

“Yeah, maybe. I always thought I’d have a few by this point, but it just never worked out, ya know? Don’t think I’m ready to be a good influence for a kid, though.” Trying to break away from a tender subject, Tommy suggests that Adam help him to the car, because sitting in the gravel of the drive isn’t getting any more comfortable with time. Adam can see the what-ifs flashing in Tommy’s eyes and doesn’t press the subject any further.

“Before we do that, I wanna check and see where this driveway ends up. That way, if there’s a better option than spending the night in the car, you won’t have to try walking on that ankle twice.”

“Just don’t take too long, man. It’s getting cold out here.” Adam can see the shivers running through Tommy’s body, and without even thinking, he takes his jacket off and puts it around Tommy’s shoulders. Tommy looks up, questioning surprise showing on his face, and says, “If you think I’m gonna say no to this, you’re wrong. ‘S already warmed up inside, and everything. I‘m not into fucking grand gestures and shit.”

“Nice to know you’re worried about me, but I’ll be back before I get cold. If I don’t find anything, we’ll spend the night in the car. Till then, you can use the jacket.”

Adam gets up and starts walking to the front of the car, and he hears Tommy calling, “I’m serious, Adam. Don’t be gone too long.” Adam would laugh about Tommy not wanting to sit alone in the dark for a few minutes, but he has to admit that he’s a little freaked by the setting, too. He’s never seen a more perfect stage for one of the horror movies Tommy likes so much.

Walking out past the car, Adam ducks under the pine bough that blocked his vision when he was maneuvering the car. At first, he's tempted to think what he's seeing is a mirage because down the driveway a little, he can see the roof of a house.

It's not just any house, Adam notes looking over the whole thing as he gets closer. The large stone foundation meshes perfectly with the redwood siding and decking. He can see water around the back, possibly a lake or pond. It's hard to judge in the dark, but it looks like a very well planned vacation home or retreat.

The house itself looks modern. There's enough windows to let in any light the crowding trees will allow. Now that he's noticed the trees again, Adam's surprised to see that not only the trees, but the brush and weeds all stop before they reach the house. There's a nice little lawn that doesn't look freshly mown, but it's not overgrown either. It’s like the grass just knows when to stop growing.

Adam walks up to the deck to see if there are any signs of life. The house itself is dark, but people out here might go to bed early. There are no cars around, but he can see that the driveway splits off, one branch leading to the house, while the other goes to some sort of outbuilding. It might be a garage, but it almost looks like a barn to Adam.

Deciding to take his chances with the house, Adam walks to the front door, caution showing in the slow, steady meter of his steps. He tries looking through the glass of the door, not wanting to startle anyone inside with his banging. There’s no bell to ring, so he lifts his hand to knock.

As soon as his hand makes contact with the door, it slowly opens - not in the creaky way he realizes he was expecting, but with an air of welcoming. _Get a grip, Lambert_ he whispers to himself as he steps just inside the threshold, trying to bring a sense of reality back.

Before walking into the house, he calls out, "Hello, anybody home? Our car broke down. Is there a phone we can use?" Only silence is returned to him, so he makes his way further into the room.

There's not enough light to illuminate the room, but the pale moonlight that manages to filter through the windows is enough for him to make out the general layout. He's in some sort of great room. There's a simple kitchen, a living area and a dining area. The furniture looks to be of good quality and sturdy, and doesn't look worn or dusty. He sees a light switch on the wall and flips it, but nothing happens. When he realizes that he's flipped it two more times just to make sure, he stops, and tells himself to concentrate on finding a phone instead of hoping reality changes between one flip of a switch and the next.

Wandering around, he keeps calling out in case someone is there and maybe slept through his noise, but still no one answers. He looks for a phone, a TV, a radio, anything that might suggest contact with the rest of the world, but there's nothing.

Deciding to check out the other doors he's seen, Adam makes his way to the first one. Upon opening it, he sees a massive bed that faces another bank of windows. He can barely make out the shape of a deck outside and the faint glimmer of moonlight reflecting off water in the distance. "Okay," his mind tells him, "bedroom accounted for."

He does a quick search, but finds no phone. _What kind of people would build a house like this and not include any connection to the outside world?_ he asks himself, but it doesn't look like he'll be getting any answers, so he moves on.

The next door is for a bathroom, and Adam checks to see if the water is working. To his surprise, it runs freely, clear and cold. He holds his hand under it for a second as he tries to adjust it to a warmer setting, but it stays as frigid as when he first started. No hot water then.

Making his way back to the main room, he tries the door opposite the entry door, and is rewarded with a knob that won't turn. He's not desperate enough to break down the door; he can respect whatever boundaries the owner of the house has set, at least for now.

 

There are fireplaces in both the great room and the bedroom; massive stone fireplaces that look like they could keep the house warm even in the chill that’s descended tonight. There's wood stacked right beside both hearths, ready and waiting to be laid out for a fire. At least they won't have to spend the night out in the cold, he thinks as he makes his way out of the house. He's left Tommy alone in the dark long enough. If they're gonna be stuck out here, they might as well be comfortable.

Once Adam leaves the confines of the house, the chill of the night hits him. He hadn’t realized how much it had cooled off before he went into the house. Clouds are starting to roll in, and the wind is picking up. Adam knows that being outside of LA proper, the weather changes are more drastic, and neither he nor Tommy are prepared to sit out a storm outside

Now he can feel the cold, even though it hadn’t been that long since the sun had fully set. He thinks Tommy must be freezing out here, not being able to move around to keep warm. Thinking back on all the times Tommy had spent wrapped in a blanket or covered in a hoodie when everyone else was warm makes Adam hurry a little more than he normally would have. He can’t go too fast though. He has a feeling that the darkness is helping conceal small treacheries that he knows are hiding in the gravel drive. The last thing they need is another twisted ankle.

When he’s close enough to see the scant moonlight reflect off the car’s metallic finish, Adam hears Tommy’s voice. “Adam? If that’s you out there you better fucking answer me.”

“Yeah, it’s just me,” he answers, coming to the back of the car where he can see Tommy sitting right where he left him. “Who were you expecting?”

“Not who, but what, you fucker,” Tommy answers. “You knew damn well what you were doing when you talked about things in the woods just before you left me out here by myself.”

“Aww, Tommy Joe, were you afraid of being all alone in the dark?” Adam can’t help the smirk that crosses his face. The opportunity to tease is just too good to pass up since they’re both in the right mood for it. It’s been too long since they could talk to each other this way without either of them becoming defensive.

“No, I wasn’t afraid. Not really, anyway. I only jumped every time I heard a leaf rustle, expecting some wild animal to come out of the damn trees, so, yeah, thanks for that.”

It’s Tommy’s smile that Adam focuses on and not his words. Adam smiles back and offers a hand to Tommy, saying, “Come on, Tommy. There’s a nice, safe, house down there just waiting to make us feel at home.”

Tommy’s eyes light up when he looks up at Adam and says, “Are you fucking serious? A house with lights and people and phones and shit? Did you call someone? Are they coming to get us?”

"Take it easy, okay? There aren't any people there. There's no electricity or phone either, but there is a huge ass fireplace with enough wood by it to heat the place up. There's even running water, as long as you like it cold." Adam can see the incredulous look on Tommy's face and asks, "What?"

"Oh, man, tell me you didn't break into someone's house," Tommy says, and Adam has to think a second.

"No! Of course I didn't break in...At least I don't think I broke in. Is it breaking in if the door swings open when you knock?"

"I'm pretty sure it is, man. If you don't have the owner's permission it's breaking and entering." Tommy almost laughs at the look of contrition on Adam's face; almost, but he manages to hold it back because Adam really seems to be taking this seriously.

"Well, maybe we can leave them a note or something. You know, telling them we'll pay for the wood or whatever they want, but we had to use their house."

"I'm sure that'll make them very happy when they come back and find strangers in their house," Tommy says as he grabs Adam's hand and stands up.

Adam sees the pain Tommy tries to hide when his injured foot is no longer on a level surface. When he'd been sitting still, his ankle had settled into a dull throb, but standing up seems to bring all the hurting back at once.

“Whatever, Ratliff,” Adam says, taking control of the situation. “We have to get you somewhere inside where it’s warm and safe. You’re not gonna be doing any hiking, so trying to walk outta here isn’t an option. I don’t feel safe spending the night in the car. It’s a convertible, and the top wouldn’t even stop that squirrel you saw before if it really wanted to get in. Squirrels can carry rabies, you know; they’re not always the cute little fluffy woodland creatures most people think of. If I have to walk back to the highway to flag someone down, I don’t wanna have to worry about you the whole time.”

Adam shoulders in under Tommy’s arm, having to almost stoop in order to help Tommy to walk, but before Tommy starts moving he tells Adam, “No way, man. There’s no fucking way that you’re gonna walk along some dark, deserted road tonight. You’ll end up tripping and falling and breaking something.” Shaking his head at Adam, Tommy continues, "Nope, not gonna happen. We’ll both wait in the house until morning. See what things look like then. I bet I’ll even be able to walk back with you. Besides, if Mr. and Mrs. Vacation Home come back, I don’t wanna be alone to try and explain why I needed to break into their house to avoid all the rabid squirrels in the woods.”

“And here I just thought you were worried about me, Tommy,” Adam says as they start walking toward the house. Adam tries to do his best to help Tommy keep his weight off of his injured foot, but by the time they make it to the house, he can see beads of sweat forming on Tommy’s forehead.

The stairs going up to the deck are a little tricky, but Adam manages to help Tommy up. When they get to the door, though, Adam’s mind flashes to how happy certain gossip bloggers would be if he was arrested for breaking and entering. He doesn’t realize that he’s been standing in front of the door until he hears Tommy saying, “Might be better if I’m the one who actually opens the door and goes in first. Don’t think they’d arrest you if you say you went in after me, just to help me and shit. Nobody’s gonna care if I get arrested and you’ll look like the good guy; a friend trying to help a friend, and you wouldn’t have to lie about it.”

“I’d care, though,” Adam says, and maybe there’s a little more emotion behind the words than he’d planned, because Tommy looks up at him with so much questioning hope that it breaks Adam’s heart to think that Tommy’s missed their friendship as much as he has.

“I was talking about the tabloids, dude,” Tommy says, dropping his line of sight to look more at his shoes than anything else, but Adam can see the red tinged blush creeping all the way up to the top of Tommy’s ears, and it makes him smile.

“Sure you were,” Adam tells him, feeling good inside for the first time today, “but it’s always nice to know someone _does_ care, right?”

“Whatever,” Tommy answers, but he smiles back at Adam and doesn’t protest when Adam opens the door and helps him inside.

Adam helps Tommy over to the couch, which happens to face the fireplace. “You need to get that foot elevated so it doesn’t swell anymore. Here, let me help,” Adam says, looking at the multilevel, stone coffee table uncertainly.

“Even if you could move that fucker,” Tommy tells him, “I don’t think it would be serviceable. Besides, I’d feel guilty as hell putting my feet up on it.”

“So now you have principles?” Adam asks. He’s glad they’re at a point where they can tease. “You’re willing to break in to someone’s house, but you won’t put your feet on their table? Seriously, Tommy?”

Tommy looks at Adam through the hair that’s fallen across his face and smiles sheepishly. It’s another one of Tommy’s looks that Adam’s always liked, even if he hasn’t always fallen for it: almost a cross between embarrassment and coyness. “Yeah, strange, isn’t it? But I can still see the look my mom always gave me when I was a kid and did that. You never get rid of that stuff, ya know?”

Adam sees the dreamy, faraway look in Tommy’s eyes and feels instant tenderness for him. It hasn’t been easy for Tommy, losing both his parents while he was away. Tommy had tried so hard to be strong and not let people see how torn up he was when his father died during the first tour, but Adam had known. Adam had seen how Tommy had slowed down and pulled into himself. He’d tried to give Tommy enough room to work through it, but when he’d finally pushed Tommy to let it out, they’d spent the whole night talking and crying and holding each other.

But when Tommy’s mom had died while they were overseas on the second tour, it was completely different. Adam had been standing right next to Tommy when he’d gotten that call from his sister. He’d seen Tommy’s face go completely white. He’d heard the most soul-wrenching sounds coming out of Tommy’s mouth. When he’d held Tommy, he’d felt tremors that couldn’t be comforted away running through his body. Tommy had completely shut down then. They’d all done what they could, but no one had been able to get through to him. Adam had stayed right by his side, never letting go until they’d sent him home to be with his sister and the rest of his family. Tommy had left, and the tour had gone on because tours always have to go on. What broke Adam’s heart more than having to do the shows without someone he considered a member of their family was that he hadn’t been able to be with Tommy, to help him through his sorrow. Tommy never did make it back before the tour ended, Adam remembers, and when it was finally over, when they’d played their last show and gone home, Tommy just wasn’t the same.

Adam thinks he could take the easy way out and blame the change in their friendship on Tommy’s grief and guilt over not being there for either of his parents, but that doesn’t feel true. Somewhere along the line they just forgot that underneath all the show and the fan shit, that they really do like each other, and it’s not wrong that they do.

“You shouldn’t try and get rid of that kind of stuff,” Adam says, picking up Tommy’s hand and holding it in a way that should feel cheesy as hell but somehow doesn’t. “It’s a part of you, Tommy. It’s part of what makes you who you are.” The intensity of the moment is even too much for Adam. They haven’t been able to talk about Tommy’s mom, and their recent truce hasn’t put them back to being close enough to start now.

In order to avoid any awkwardness, Adam says, “Let’s get your foot up on the couch, okay? Then I can make a fire. It should give us enough light so I can see how messed up your ankle really is.”

Between the two of them, they manage to get Tommy situated with his feet up on the couch, but it’s no easy task. The first time Adam tries to help lift Tommy’s injured foot, he’s rewarded with a string of profanity like he’s never heard before. Tommy’s quick to follow it up with, “Sorry. It’s more tender than I thought it was.”

Adam can see not only how much pain Tommy’s in, but also how embarrassed Tommy is over Adam seeing that, and it bothers him. “You don’t have to pretend things don’t hurt, you know,” he tells Tommy. “I won’t think any less of you.”

Adam’s not quite ready to see what kind of reaction that gets from Tommy, so he busies himself with laying the fire and getting it started. He has one small moment of panic when he can’t find the handle for the flue, but once he makes sure it’s open, he has the fire going relatively quickly.

With the fire burning, the room warms up faster than either of them expects. The house takes on a homey feeling, the flames reflected in the many windows, blocking out the movement of the tree branches swaying in the wind outside. Somewhere, far off in the distance, they hear the rumbling of thunder, and Tommy smiles when he says, “You knew it had to turn out to be a dark and stormy night, right? Fuck, Adam, it’s like this whole day is a set up for something. Dark roads, car problems, deserted houses in the middle of nowhere, and now a storm coming in.”

“Except,” Adam says, “if it was a set up for one of your horror movies, the house would be covered in cobwebs and dust, and we wouldn’t have a nice warm fire.”

“Unless somebody was gonna get thrown into it before the end of the movie,” Tommy adds because he’s enjoying the way they can play again, too.

“Yeah, well, it’s a good thing we have someplace comfortable to wait for Michael Myers or Freddy Krueger or whoever to show up, isn’t it?” Adam asks. “At least we won’t die cold and wet.”

“Such a fucking optimist tonight, aren’t ya?” Tommy asks, and Adam’s surprised when he realizes that he didn’t feel even the slightest bristle of aggression over Tommy’s remark when just yesterday he would have. Hell, even a few hours ago they would have been at each other’s throats over a comment like that.

Adam thinks about how easy it is to reclaim a friendship as he goes to the bedroom to find a pillow or blanket to make Tommy more comfortable. He hopes it’s as easy to salvage as it was to let it slip away.

When he gets back to Tommy, he slides the pillow under his foot as gently as he can. Tommy's quick intake of breath lets him know he’s still in pain, as does the way he starts chewing on his bottom lip, something Adam hasn't seen him do in years.

"You okay, Tommy?" Adam asks, genuine concern showing in his voice and on his face. "I need to take your shoe and sock off to see what it looks like."

"Yeah," Tommy answers. "Just gimme a sec." Adam can see how hard Tommy's trying to get himself under control, and it bothers him a little that Tommy's not comfortable letting him see his weaknesses.

When Tommy gives him the okay, Adam starts untying the creeper, being careful not to touch Tommy’s foot unnecessarily. He gently loosens the laces, but when it’s time to take the shoe off, Tommy tells him, “Quick and dirty, yeah? Don’t make it last longer than it has to.” The dramatic setting to their night continues as a lightening flash illuminates the night.

Adam takes one last look at Tommy reclining on the couch, arm draped dramatically over his face and his foot resting on a flossy pillow, and quickly pulls the shoe off. Tommy’s yell overrides the thunder that sounds much closer this time, and Adam feels Tommy’s fingers clutching his shoulder, nails digging in to his flesh even through his shirt.

“Holy shit, Ratliff,” Adam says, prying Tommy’s fingers loose and holding his hand instead, “you’ve got fucking strong hands.” Adam continues to hold Tommy’s hand while he gets his breathing back to normal, rubbing the top with his thumb.

"Oh, fucking hell, that hurt," Tommy says when he can breathe again. "There's no fucking way you're taking the sock off now. Maybe later, but not now, okay?"

Adam can see how much Tommy's opposed to the idea by how tightly his whole body's clenched. The beads of sweat are back on Tommy's forehead, and Adam doesn't like how pale he looks. "If you pass out on me, Tommy, I swear I'll... I don't know what I'll do, but you’re sure as hell not gonna like it."

"Don't panic, Adam," Tommy answers, finally letting go of Adam's hand. "Not gonna pass out. Might puke all over your fancy boots, but I'm not gonna pass out."

"Yeah, um, how about no fucking way. These boots are new and you should never disrespect the boots." Tommy manages a half smile as Adam actually pets his boots.

"Remember when you were all about those wedge things? You wore them all the time. Never could understand how they could be comfortable or how you managed to not break your god damned neck."

"Yeah, I did really get into those, didn't I?" Adam answers with a faraway look. "Don't tell anyone, but the reason I gave them up was because I pulled a tendon wearing them. When I went on that sudden vacation for a few weeks and didn't tell anyone I was going or where I went? That was when I had to wear a corrective boot to straighten things out."

Adam’s never told anyone what really happened; he’s never been able to get past the embarrassment. He hadn’t even told his management the whole story. He’d only told them he needed some time off. Tommy is the first person he’s confided in, and he’s not really sure what to expect. When he hears Tommy’s snort of laughter, he feels a little crushed, but then he’s flooded with relief when Tommy tells him, “Oh, man, Adam, I thought for sure it was rehab or some shit like that. I’ve been going fucking crazy ever since then, trying to make sure you stayed clean. I wish I’d known I just had to keep an eye on your shoes. Would’ve made my life a hella lot easier.”

Adam thinks back to some of things that happened that seemed strange at the time, like Tommy’s sudden anger whenever he announced he was going to a club, even if it was a promotional thing, and Tommy’s distrust of a lot of the people Adam had introduced him to. He remembers the way Tommy’s looked at him sometimes, looked at him with something Adam couldn’t quite make out. He can see how Tommy reacted every time Adam wanted some time alone, whether it was an hour or a week. It’d made him mad as hell at the time; it was something he couldn’t make come right in his mind, so he’d chalked it up to changes Tommy was going through, but now he thinks he can see it for what it was, and it touches something inside of him. His voice has a tenderness that he hasn’t used in years when talking to Tommy as he says, “Sorry, Tommy, but it’s nice to know you’ve been looking out for me. Kinda explains some of the things you did that pissed me off, though. It makes sense now, but it would’ve been easier if you would’ve just asked if I had a drug problem.”

“Think about it, Adam.” Tommy says, and Adam’s certain he can see a little bit of hurt under the anger on Tommy’s face. “You couldn’t even tell me you fell off your fucking boots. If it had been a drug problem, would that have been any easier to confide?”

Before their hurt and anger can turn into something they’ve been working to distance themselves from, fate intervenes, and a blindingly bright flash of lightening lights up the windows all around them. The crash of thunder shakes the house, and both men turn their attention to what’s happening outside.

“Holy fuck, that was close,” Tommy says as Adam moves to the window to see if he can make out where the lightning struck.

“Looks like a tree got hit out there,” Adam says, looking more intensely, trying to see around the foliage that is blocking his vision. “I hope the car’s okay where we left it. Looks like a lot of branches are going down out there.”

“If you’re thinking about going out to check, stop it right the fuck now,” Tommy says, exasperation making itself know through his tone. “It’s either fine where it is, or it isn’t.” He’s silent for a few seconds before he adds in a much gentler tone, “You can’t make everything right, ya know? Some things are gonna be what they are, and there’s not a fucking thing you or anybody else can do about them.”

Adam’s not sure, but he doesn’t think Tommy’s talking about the car anymore.

*

 

 _Gus was a relative of one of Terrance’s friends. Adam had hired him as a gofer because Terrance had asked him to. It was supposed to help the kid straighten out his life before it was too late, and it’d seemed to be working. Gus had been so excited, working the tour for the summer, turning twenty-one, and feeling like he was making a contribution. His smile and joy over everyday things had infected everyone, especially Tommy, who’d seemed particularly jaded with touring before Gus came on board._

 _Tommy had seemed to take Gus under his wing, walking him through what he wanted Gus to do, taking the time to make sure Gus was comfortable with knowing his job, and reassuring Gus when the kid did screw up. It reminded Adam of how Monte had been with Tommy on the first tour, but it was more than that. Tommy was open with Gus in a way that he wasn’t with anyone else. Gus brought out the nurturing side in Tommy, but he brought out the child in him, too._

 _Things were fun when Gus and Tommy were together; no one could deny that. Tommy could talk Gus into anything, and usually did. Not that Tommy wasn’t right there with Gus, doing whatever it was they shouldn’t be doing. Gus seemed to thrive on Tommy's wild schemes. Maybe it was because Tommy let Gus know how pleased he was when Gus did something right. There was always a big smile on Gus’ face when Tommy ruffled his hair and told him ‘Way to go, Gussie boy’. They all came to look forward to seeing that smile - more than any of them would admit._

 _The day it happened there was more than the usual tension backstage. The acoustics were for shit in the hall. It was a small arena, designed more for hockey than for music, and Adam was having a hard time because the sound was off. No matter what they’d tried at soundcheck, nothing had helped. Adam had gone off on Gus at one point, telling him to get the fucking speakers positioned right. He’d regretted it as soon as it happened, and he’d made sure to tell Gus how sorry he was. The boy had seemed to be okay, but he’d kept looking at Adam like a kicked puppy until soundcheck was done._

 _Tommy had kept mostly to himself while they’d been working, but as soon as rehearsal was done, he’d let everyone know how much he needed a drink. Smiling at the boy as he’d walked past, Tommy had said, “How ‘bout it, Kid? You wanna break in that new ID of yours and go get me something?”_

 _Gus had been only too happy to leave the stress behind, and had taken orders from a few people. There was a liquor store on the next block, and Gus had promised to be back in twenty minutes, tops._

 _It was only fifteen minutes later when they’d heard the shrill scream of rubber on pavement outside, and another thirty seconds for the whispers to start. Tommy hadn’t thought much of it when he’d heard the first sounds, but then he’d started hearing Gus’ name in the whispers, and he’d broken out in a cold sweat._

 _Without any thought, Tommy ran out the stage entrance. He’d pushed through the fans that were waiting outside beyond the barricades. He’d pushed through the crowd that had gathered in the street. He’d pushed and he’d pushed and he’d pushed until there wasn't anything to push against, and then he’d wished he'd never pushed at all, because Gus was lying right in front of him, broken in so many ways that Tommy could see, and he’d known there had to be at least as many that he couldn't._

 _Tommy had dropped to his knees and pulled Gus’ head into his lap. No one had told him not to move the boy. Everyone had known it was too late to worry about causing further harm. Tommy hadn’t been able to give up, though. He’d kept calling to Gus, kept telling him to hold on, to come back. He’d tried to will whatever life force he had into the young man’s body, and no one had been able to force him to stop._

 _Adam had come out soon after Tommy, but Tommy hadn’t seen him or heard him. He’d been too busy looking and listening for signs of life coming from Gus. They’d told Tommy later that Adam had tried to pull him away from Gus, but Tommy had thrown a mean right hook that had missed Adam’s jaw, but had connected with his shoulder. No one had been able to tear Tommy away; not Adam, not the people crowded around Gus, not even the paramedics. It wasn’t until the police had come and cuffed him and put him in the back of a squad car that Tommy had even been aware of anyone besides Gus._

 _He’d sat there, fighting against the restraints until Adam had gotten in beside him. Then it had all crashed. Someone had taken the cuffs off, probably one of the police officers, but Tommy had never even noticed. All Tommy had known was that Adam had been holding him, and he’d been crying. He’d cried like he hadn’t been able to cry when his own parents died. He’d cried for hours, it seemed. Adam had held him the whole time. Adam had held him in the back of the squad car. Adam had held him on the car ride back and at the hotel. Adam had even held him all through the night, and the whole fucking time Tommy had cried more tears than he’d thought one person could cry._

 _When the tears had stopped, though, Tommy had been silent. They’d all flown home for Gus’ funeral, and Tommy hadn’t talked to anyone all during the flight. He hadn’t talked to anyone in the days leading up to the funeral. He’d stayed holed up in his apartment, not even answering his phone. Adam had sent him a text telling him when he would pick him up for the service, and had trusted that Tommy had gotten it._

 _On the day of the service, a long black car had pulled up in front of Tommy’s place and Adam had walked up and rang the bell. Tommy had been dressed in his best suit and had quietly walked back to the car with Adam. His silence had remained unbroken throughout the service. Tommy had sat silently, huddled in on himself, until after the graveside gathering. When they’d finally gotten back in the car, Tommy had said six words to Adam, six words that had told Adam everything he’d needed to know about the whys of Tommy’s silence. “I shouldn’t have made him go.”_

 _Adam had tried to reassure Tommy that it hadn’t been his fault, that he hadn’t made Gus do anything, but Tommy hadn’t been ready to listen. Adam had dismissed the car when they’d gotten back to Tommy’s place, because he couldn’t leave him alone in that state. Tommy hadn’t been able to open up any further no matter how many times Adam had told him that some things can’t be changed no matter what; that sometimes things are just going to be what they’re going to be._

 _When everyone had reconvened to continue the tour, they’d spent the first night remembering Gus and his smile. There’d been many stories and toasts, but Adam noticed Tommy hadn’t been drinking. There hadn’t been any drinking for Tommy for the rest of the tour; there hadn’t been any smiles, either._

 

*

 

“You know something?” Tommy asks, looking more inward than outward. “I never felt as old as I did on that day.”

Adam’s glad that Tommy trusts him to know exactly what he’s talking about. He comes back over and sits on the floor beside Tommy, hoping the closeness will encourage him to open up. “I had to see someone about it, ya know,” Tommy says, staring into nothing. “I couldn’t get it worked out on my own. Don’t know if I do yet, but at least I don’t think about it all the fucking time anymore.”

Tommy grows quiet, so Adam reaches out and picks up his hand, saying, “You two were so close. It must have really hurt when he died, but it wasn’t your fault, Tommy. You didn’t make him go out that day. You asked him to go, but you didn’t _make_ him go.”

And since they’re exploring the painful situation for the first time together, Adam tells Tommy something he’s never been able to before. “If I hadn’t been on him about the stupid soundcheck, he would have probably told you to fuck off and get your own damn booze. I think he would have done anything to get away from me that day. I’ve felt so guilty for yelling at him.”

“He knew how fucking important that shit was to you. It was part of his god damned job. But me making him go to a fucking liquor store to get me some fucking beer? That should never have fucking happened.” Tommy’s teeth are clenched so tightly Adam’s afraid he might break them. Tommy’s whole body looks like an overwound spring. Adam wants to talk this out, but he doesn’t want Tommy to break over it.

“Tommy,” Adam says, putting his fingers under Tommy’s chin and gently lifting, “look at me, please. You keep saying you made Gus go out that day. Can’t you see the difference between asking and forcing? Because I’ve never seen you force anyone to do anything.”

“But I knew damn well that he wouldn’t say no if I asked. I fucking knew, and I asked him anyway. If that isn’t forcing someone, then I don’t know what is.” Tommy looks at Adam then. Looks him right in the eye, and then some. Adam can see the tears standing in Tommy’s eyes, and as much as he wants to tell Tommy that everything’s okay, he knows that would be wrong.

“I was supposed to be the responsible one, Adam. He was just a kid. I took advantage of knowing he would do whatever I asked him to. He was the closest thing I ever had to having a kid of my own, and I got him killed over a fucking beer.”

There it is, out in the open finally, and Adam feels like he can reach out and touch the hole in Tommy’s soul. Except now that Tommy’s opened up and spilled his guts, Adam doesn’t know what to say. He does the only thing he knows how to do, though. He reaches out to Tommy and holds him. Adam holds him as lightening flares against the windows and thunder shakes the foundation. Adam holds him as the rain starts, coming down hard enough to curtain them from the rest of the world. Adam holds him, and holds him, and holds him until the muscles in his arms start to protest, and Tommy doesn’t pull away.

Finally, Adam asks, “What can I say to make you see it wasn’t your fault? How can I make it better?”

“That’s the fucking problem, right there,” Tommy answers with an intensity that surprises Adam a little, but makes him think, too. Maybe Tommy’s been pushing him to realize something about himself, just like he’s been pushing Tommy. “You can’t always make things better. You can’t always take care of everything. It’s not your job to make this better. You’re my friend. I get that you want to help, but you can’t shelter me from my own life. You gotta back off sometimes and just trust that I’ll eventually work it out.” Tommy takes a shuddering breath before he continues, and Adam can see the tears starting to spill over the corners of Tommy’s eyes. “You were there for me when I needed it then, and you’re here for me when I need it now. That’s what friends do, and I appreciate it more than you can ever fucking know, but you can’t make it go away, and that’s the only thing that could ever make it better.”

“I just hate like hell seeing you like this, Tommy,” Adam says, the frustration showing on his face and sounding in his words. “You haven’t found a way to get past it on your own, and I’m worried that it’s changing who you are. Sometimes I think we don’t even know each other anymore.”

“But it did fucking change me,” Tommy says, all the emotions he’s feeling playing out on his face. “How the hell could it not change me? Every fucking thing that happens changes all of us, but I’ll always be the fuck up, and you’ll always be the one trying to make everything right, so I guess we’ll just have to put up with each other.”

“God, when you put it like that, it sounds like we’re stuck with each other forever,” Adam says, smiling at Tommy.

“Shit,” Tommy answers, “It sounds more like we fucking need each other. That universal balancing stuff you’re always talking about or something.”

“Yin and Yang, Tommy,” Adam corrects with a smile, because he thinks they just might be back to where they need to be, or at least close. “If you’re gonna reference it, make sure you get it right.”

“Fucker,” Tommy says and tries to give Adam a friendly shoulder shove, but Adam dodges, and Tommy overbalances, yelling, “OW, ow, fucking ow, you fucker,” as he falls off the couch.

But Adam moves fast, and before Tommy hits the floor, Adam’s there cushioning his fall. Not that landing on Adam instead of the floor makes it any less painful for Tommy’s ankle, but hearing Adam’s _oooff_ as the point of Tommy’s elbow makes dramatic contact with Adam’s belly seems to appease him.

Then Tommy starts laughing, and it feels so right to Adam for them to be together like this; almost as easy as it used to. They’re not quite all the way back, but they’re closer now than they have been in years. It’s enough, but it’s not. Tommy must sense some of what he’s feeling because the smile never leaves his face, but Adam sees the questioning behind it flowing over Tommy’s face like a wave.

“We good?” Tommy asks, a hint of insecurity in his voice.

“We’re fucking great, Tommy Joe,” Adam answers, helping Tommy back onto the couch, “but how do we know we’ll always be good?” And this is what Adam needs to know to be able to get past the blocks they’ve both put in place. “We used to be so good for each other. Like you said before; we balanced each other. We were supposed to be that for each other forever. We never thought we’d end up like we were this morning.” Adam takes a second to run his fingers through his hair, to gather his thoughts. “Fuck, Tommy, only a few hours ago we were acting like we couldn’t stand to be around each other. How the hell did that happen?”

“Guess we forgot to remember we need each other,” Tommy answers, every bit as frustrated as Adam is over this. “Or maybe we were just fucking scared to admit how much we do need each other, I don’t know.”

Adam stares in amazement at Tommy because he’d said it so plainly and so perfectly. The patterns that Adam can trace through the years all point to the truth of those few words. Every time something came between them, every time something pushed them a little further apart, it was because one of them had needed the other, and the totality of that need had scared them both. “Shit, Tommy, I could kiss you for that,” Adam tells a bewildered Tommy.

“Whatever, man. You know I never turn down a kiss.” And that’s just one of the things he remembers he likes about Tommy.

Adam does finally talk Tommy into letting him take his sock off so he can check his foot. When he sees the spectacular reds and blues on Tommy’s skin, Adam says, “Yep, you’re gonna have to wear one of those snazzy boots, but I hear all the cool kids are doing it these days.”

“Yeah, and you’re gonna take me somewhere nice and private when I do, so I don’t have to suffer public mockery, you fucker.”

 

 

  
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Epilogue

They wake to the sounds of birds chirping and to sunlight streaming in through all the windows. Sometime during the night Adam ended up on the couch, Tommy’s head in his lap. He stretches out before gently shaking Tommy awake. “Come on, Tommy. Time to get up. Sun’s up.”

“Tell it to go ‘way. ‘S too early,” Tommy mumbles, trying for just a little more sleep.

“No way, Ratliff. I’m gonna go check the car, see how it did in the storm, and then we gotta figure out a way to get out of here. How’s your foot feeling?”

“Still hurts like hell, but I think I’m gonna live,” Tommy answers, running his hand through his sleep-mussed hair before sitting up so Adam can get off the couch.

“Always a smart-ass, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, and you love me for it.”

Adam can’t help humming as he walks back up the drive to where they’d left the car. He’s not surprised when he realizes that he’s humming the songs from the set list of the show they’d missed last night. He’s amazed to see that while there are trees and branches down all over in the woods, nothing seems out of place in the yard. Even the grass doesn’t have the beaten down look he thinks it should have after the driving rain of the night before.

When he reaches the car, Adam sees it’s exactly as they’d left it, not even a stray leaf sticking to its finish. He opens the door and climbs in, deciding to see if sitting overnight fixed whatever problem the car had. When he turns the key, the car starts up just as nice as can be, and he realizes that in some part of his mind, he expected that to happen. He thinks he could probably get a signal on his phone now if he tried, but he knows there’s gonna be hell to pay for missing the show, and he’s not quite ready to let anything interfere with his good mood yet. There’ll be time enough for that later. Right now, he just wants to get Tommy in the car so they can go home.

 

End

  


  
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